Seduction
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: It wasn't planned, wasn't a date, but when he'd shown up looking striking in his suit and with his arm empty, she'd gravitated to him like she always did, her whole body orienting toward him as if he was her shining beacon in a dark, starless night. Follows episode 4x11, "Till Death Do Us Part."
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **_Set season four, after episode 11 "Till Death Do Us Part" (aka Ryan's wedding). _**  
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**Seduction**

He brought her home that night.

It wasn't planned, wasn't a date, but when he'd shown up looking striking in his suit and with his arm empty, she'd gravitated to him like she always did, her whole body orienting toward him as if he was her shining beacon in a dark, starless night.

She hadn't minded attending by herself – she was a strong, independent woman who didn't need a date with some guy she wouldn't even like all that much just to avoid the stigma of the dreaded 'singles' table' – but there he'd been, with eyes only for her and her heart had scampered ridiculously.

So she'd hooked her arm through his and he'd walked her down the aisle, and they'd been the partners they always were, standing just this side of too close together, a sturdy mast in the bobbing sea of wedding guests. He'd leaned in close, murmured comments into her ear to drown out the the chatter and white noise of the crowd, his fingers brushing her hair behind her ear, and delicious shivers had raced down her spine.

She'd slowly sipped her drinks, not willing to give up the pure joy of this day for the numbing blur of alcohol; that tingle in her fingertips, the flip of her tummy, this heightened _awareness_. She'd laughed, and danced, once or twice with him, too, with his wide palm spanning her lower back and heat spreading concentrically where he touched. With their thighs grazing, hips bumping and her lips too close to the skin of his neck; her hand folded into his larger one and his thumb mindlessly caressing slow circles over her knuckles, over and over and over until she'd felt flushed from her cheeks down to her toes.

And then she'd slid into his car, and they sat a respectable distance apart, with her body humming and her skin tingling and her heart yearning.

She asked him to have his driver stop a couple of blocks away from her apartment, and she wasn't surprised when Castle ambled out of the car behind her. The night air was crisp; unseasonably warm for mid-January but cool against her flushed cheeks. She wanted to walk a bit, soak that fresh winter humidity into her lungs; infuse her spirit with this eternally beautiful night and have it not end. Not yet.

Kate raised an eyebrow at him when he skeptically eyed her shoes, four-inch slim heels with which she'd already danced the night away, but then she retrieved the small velvet satchel from her purse with a sly grin. He still watched with wide eyed fascination as she retrieved a folded pair of ballet slippers from the pouch. She slid out of one stiletto, rested her hand on his shoulder for balance while she slipped the thin shoe onto her right foot. His arm came around her back, fingers clamped tightly around her waist, holding her steady and the unexpected touch stalled her breath in her lungs. His thumb skimmed along the edge of her ribcage and she had to suppress the shiver that raced through her, had to busy herself with the other ballet slipper to hide her visceral reaction. Now flat-footed, she sank down a few inches and he let her go. She could almost taste the loss on her tongue; she swallowed it down.

He slipped out of his suit jacket, draped it over her, his fingers lingering on her shoulders just this side of too long before he pulled away and bent down to pick up her stilettos.

He carried her shoes.

They dangled off his fingertips as they walked side by side, silence settling over them after the bustle and hum of the wedding reception. His scent surrounded her, the familiar freshness of his cologne, his warmth, the musk of _him_ lifting from his jacket; delicious heat bloomed in her midsection, leaving her mouth desiccated, her mind warring with itself. Her knuckles bumped into his, grazed his hand every couple of steps. Her fingers twitched; she wanted to lace them through his, feel the heat of his palm pressed tightly to hers. Her heart hammered but every step she took seemed to hum a taunting, familiar rhythm, _not yet, too soon, not ready._

All too soon the dark silhouette of her building loomed in front of them and then they arrived by her front door. The silence became heavy, almost awkward, the moment too much like a date, weighed down with unspoken hopes as she retrieved the keys from her purse but seemingly unable to turn around, insert them into the lock. Leave.

She shrugged out of his jacket, held it out to him, and the shiver that raced along her skin had nothing to do with the cool evening air. He took it from her, held her shoes out in exchange, leaning close. Their fingers touched as she received the shoes, a jolt zipping through her blood. With the flat slippers she had to look up at him, just a bit, and his eyes were so blue, darkened with a myriad of emotions she was terrified to analyze.

Heat emanated from his chest, so broad, crowding her against her front door. She wondered what he'd feel like, the wide muscles and the heat of his body and without conscious thought she raised her hand, pressed her palm to his ribcage. She could feel his heartbeat speed up beneath her hand, her heart stammering in syncopation with his. She licked her dry lips; his eyes shimmered in the blur of city lights, turning impossibly darker as he kept staring at her mouth.

Her heart leapt into her throat with every inch he seemed to lean closer, ever closer; she felt that spark between them, that hum of electricity that zapped heat through her veins, turned her knees weak, set her body aflame from the inside out.

His heat wrapped around her, his scent enticing, his lips plump, so very _sexy _and desire coiled hard in her midsection. Her fingers flexed of their own volition, digging into his ribs and she could feel the answering hitch in his breathing, his breath skittering across her lips; could almost feel the heat of him against her skin, his mouth so close now and her thoughts stumbled all over each other, overwhelming desire combating her inherent fears, not ready, not good enough and that _stupid _wall but a swell of words rushed through her, burst from her lips, impatient and uncensored and _yearning_.

"Want to come up?"


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN_**_: You lovely, wonderful people! You have completely overwhelmed me with your response to this little story, thank you so much! (Please don't stop. ;)) Seriously though, it is the greatest gift, knowing you're all out there, reading and enjoying; you make this worthwhile._

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In the elevator they stood apart, pressed against opposing walls as if afraid to prematurely unleash that torrent of passion that seemed to always lie dormant between them; that had been awakened tonight, kindled and stoked between them mere moments ago. He could still feel it, linger in the air like a charge, just on the cusp of igniting, of burning hot and fast and all-consuming.

He'd been so close, unable to stop himself from leaning in even closer, inexorably drawn to her while they lingered at her front door. It'd been magical, the way her eyelids had fluttered closed, her body canted toward his with a mind of its own and her lips falling open on a soundless sigh; the way her scent had mingled with the damp January air, had completely wrapped him under her spell. How heat had bloomed in his midsection, spread through his blood and he could almost taste her on his lips before they'd even touched, the fantom of her flavor still lingering from a too-long ago, unforgettable kiss. And then the fateful words had tumbled from her mouth; he'd frozen and her eyes had widened, the color a jade-gold swirl of desire and apprehension.

"Coffee!" She'd stammered, her cheeks flushed. "I mean, for some coffee." She'd backpedaled but he'd let her because coffee meant something, coffee was warm affection and soft smiles and the flavor of unspoken promises.

His heart had been leaping in his throat and he'd cradled her cheek with his palm, felt the warmth of her skin, soft like silk. She'd tilted her head into his touch, her lashes lowering for a drawn-out moment.

"Coffee would be great."

He watched her nervously gnaw her bottom lip, her eyes skidding to his before her eyelids lowered with a shy smile. Bashful Kate Beckett was somewhat of a novelty to him, still a bit of a surprise from the woman who had perfected teasing into an art form, who could turn him upside down and inside out with just the quirk of her eyebrow and that sly, sexy smile. He'd seen more of her shyness ever since that fateful conversation on the swings, that vague promise about tearing down walls and future relationships that he clung to like a lifeline, infusing him with hope that maybe, just maybe, she wanted the same things. Too vividly he still remembered her broken, weighed down and torn and insecure, and the contrast was staggering, unnerving.

This woman was all contradictions, mysterious and complicated and enticing and he was certain, he knew he'd never tire of digging for her secrets, of unraveling her; he ached to make her happy, to draw out more of those staggeringly joyful smiles that weakened his legs, infused his blood with exquisite need.

He warned himself to be careful with her, to go slow. He'd promised to wait and he hadn't made this promise lightly. And so he hadn't even asked her to be his date, too worried about upsetting their status-quo, about pushing too far, too fast. Yet here they were; fate, destiny, magic, all those wondrous properties he clung to seemed to have conspired to gift him this night. With her.

It made him question whether he was doing it right. Or if instead, they were just... standing still. Because everything, every moment of this evening urged him to seek, take, to just move.

Tonight had been like a dream come true. Lithe, gorgeous Kate Beckett in a sleek dress that accentuated her every subtle curve, with her eyes sparkling with pure joy and her wide smile that took his breath away, and she'd stayed by his side, all night. There'd been touching; just so much touching and not only had she let him, she'd sought him out, her hip bumping his, her fingertips whispering over the sleeves of his suit. He'd gotten to hold her in his arms as they danced, and he'd marveled how well she fit against him, her body so slight, belying the core of strength within. He'd tripped his fingers along her spine, up and down, reveling in the involuntary arch of her back that she hadn't thought he'd noticed.

He wanted to feel that again. Wanted to feel all of her; he ached to undo her with his hands and mouth and his undying love, worship at the altar of her naked body, yearned to send her spiraling, set her free; had the foolish notion that he could be all that she needed to heal. He loved her, he wanted to get to love her.

She tugged on his sleeve, drew him out of his reverie with a quirk of her eyebrow and he stumbled after her out of the elevator, his eyes caught by the toned length of her legs and the swell of her hip that seemed to have an extra sway to it when she moved tonight.

Kate fumbled with the key at her door and if he didn't know her as well as he did, he would've missed the slight tremble of her fingers when she tried to insert the key into the lock, the rapid intake of breath when she felt him near. He hovered close behind, barely an inch separating his body from hers, careful not to touch her again, not yet. When the door finally gave way she strode inside, left it open for him to follow while she headed straight for her kitchen.

He slipped off his shoes in her entry, draped his jacket over the plush red chair in the corner before he trailed behind her.

"Coffee?" She called over her shoulder, already bustling around in the confined space between the small kitchen counter and her island-table-stove thing, filling the kettle with water and placing it on the burner and that alone, the superfluous question and the flurry of activity told him just how nervous she was. It matched the flutter in his chest, the leap of his heart every time he looked at her and wow, he really had her, didn't he? It just hit him, made him freeze in his steps, with his heart hammering against his ribcage, hard. He already had her; had never seen it more clearly than now, how they were both teetering along that precipice - together. Breathlessly waiting for that one step, that gigantic, inevitable leap of faith.

She grabbed the coffee grounds from the fridge, then bent down to pull out the coffee filter and filter paper and a coffee pot from the cabinet, and his eyes lingered on the thin stretch of dark green fabric over the curve of her hip, the slope of her taut ass. She stood, set up the coffee pot with the filter, making it old-school, her eyebrows knit in more concentration than should be necessary even in the art of coffee making.

He was yearning for her, a strong ache in his chest, like a fist squeezing his heart, urging him with every palpitation to move, move, move- and so he moved, he leapt.

Stepping up behind her, he draped the length of his body over hers, chest to her back and hip to hip, smoothing his hands along her waist, his fingers curled over the peaks of her hipbones. She shuddered in surprise; the spoon she held tumbled from her fingers, clattered onto the counter with a loud clink that reverberated through the silence between them. She froze in his arms, didn't move away, didn't seem to want to maim him either; she barely seemed to breathe.

He nudged his nose behind her ear, breathing in the enticing scent of her hair, warm desire unfurling in his midsection, and he brushed his mouth to the rim of her ear in a barely-there caress. Her fingers tightened around her kitchen counter, clamped so tight that her knuckles turned white. He could feel the suppressed energy thrumming through her taut body. Slowly, he ran his fingers just a bit further, pressed low on her abdomen; her hips moved against his, a soft, wanton, unmistakable undulation.

He nuzzled her neck. "I've been thinking..." he murmured and her head tilted, allowing him access.

His phone vibrated in his front pocket; he startled and she whirled out of his grasp, pressed with her back to her sink, looking breathless and shocked and aroused.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

"Alexis," he said by way of apology, lifted the phone to his ear to take his daughter's call.

He listened to the happy chatter of his child on the other side of the line, only half paying attention to her excited recount of the rich boy's grandfather's birthday party or whatever it had been, while Kate Beckett was staring at him with wide, dark eyes, her chest lifting rapidly beneath the sleek fabric of her dress. He answered something, wasn't quite sure what it was because she kept staring at his lips while he talked and he couldn't concentrate with his legs like jello and his skin burning and his mouth dry.

He brought the call to an end. Holding Kate's eyes with his he spoke his parting words; challenge and plea and churning, wild hope.

"Yeah. I think it'll be late tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

_I think it'll be late tonight._

The words raced down her spine, made her shiver. Castle slipped the phone back into his pocket, his eyes never leaving hers, and her body was humming with anticipation. She could still feel the heat of him against her, the strong lines of his body, the width of his chest when he'd been crowding her into the counter; still felt the burning imprint of his fingers on her stomach, like a brand. Thick heat had unfurled inside of her, settled low; her blood pounding in her lips, her fingertips, between her legs.

The kettle whistled and she practically jumped at the shrill sound that pierced the pulsating silence between them.

Kate ripped her eyes away, stepped to the stove to turn off the burner before she lifted the kettle, brought it with her to the counter. With her back to him she took a second to calm herself; her cheeks were flushed, her heart leaping into her throat and she tried to breathe, in and out, tried to clamp down on the desperate urge to tackle him against her kitchen counter, take him right here, right now. It'd been a long time since she'd felt like this; if she was honest she wasn't sure she'd ever yearned for anybody the way she yearned for him, so deep and carnal, consuming her from the inside out.

She poured water into the coffee filter, watched the first of the dark, fragrant liquid drip into the pot. Castle sidled up beside her, leaned with his back against the sink, watching her quietly. His silence was unnerving; his eyes so dark, burning into her with raw emotion, laid bare before her. She had to focus to keep her hands from shaking as she poured more water over the coffee grounds, the invigorating scent of the brew curling around them.

"Creamer?" He asked, his voice gravelly. She nodded, the words stuck in her throat. He pushed off the counter, tenderly trailed his fingers over the side of her hip and along her lower back when he brushed by her on his way to the refrigerator. Her eyes fell shut; she had to bite her lip to suppress the moan that staggered up her throat and oh god, what was happening to her; what was he doing? And why again had they not done this earlier? She felt hazy, rubbed raw with desire, couldn't for the life of her remember why this was supposed to be a bad idea when it all felt so good, so very good.

He placed her vanilla creamer on the counter, reclaimed his earlier position next to her and she congratulated herself on how steady her arms were when she reached for two mugs up on the shelf, then poured coffee, added creamer, all with his intense stare on her every move. She felt like she should say something, make small talk or tease him or really anything to bridge the cloying silence between them. Yet she had no banter left in her when all she really wanted was to know what he'd been meaning to tell her; her heart was pounding with it but she couldn't get the question past her lips.

There'd been challenge in his words, plea and wonder and such pure need that she'd almost expected him to push her into the nearest wall, and yet it seemed as if he was purposely keeping himself at a careful distance ever since, his touches tentative, teasing.

It was driving her crazy.

She turned, handed him one of the mugs. Castle took it from her, his fingers lingering on top of hers for a drawn-out moment. Her mouth went dry. He cradled the cup between his large hands and she watched his profile as he pursed his lips, blew on the surface of his coffee. His eyelids lowered on his first sip, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and she envisioned putting her lips to it, feeling his muscles work beneath her mouth. Her limbs went deliciously weak, heat climbed to her cheeks and, oh, he looked scrumptious tonight. His hair disheveled from a night of dancing and the breeze that had ruffled the strands on their walk home; the smattering of scruff that was spreading along his jaw, reminding her of his trademark rugged look she hadn't seen in so long. She wanted to know what it'd feel like; the realization harsh and vivid how strongly she was aching for it, for his mouth to brush her skin, the rasp of his chin along the sensitive planes of her body, the delicious spread of sensation. She clamped her fingers tightly around the handle of her mug, had to censor her traitorous fingers from reaching out and caressing his cheek, from turning his head to claim his mouth.

She leaned against the counter next to him, their sides barely brushing while she focused on her coffee, inhaled a long sip, letting the familiarity of the flavor calm her frayed nerves.

"How's Alexis?" She asked, scraping for normalcy but even she could hear the raw edge to her voice.

"Good, doing fine," he nodded. "Checked in to let me know she was home from her date." He winked at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "Had a really good time, apparently."

"Oh good." She nodded inanely, took another sip. "Sorry she stood you up though," she grinned at him sideways, lightly poked her elbow in his ribs.

"I'm not."

Her eyes flew to his, caught by the gruff determination in his voice, the intensity of his words. She was breathless with it, swallowed hard at the burn of his eyes on her, impossibly dark, raw with longing. She couldn't stop staring at him, could read it in his look - whatever decision he just made, he was resolved to it. Serious. Going for it. For _her_.

He was coming for her.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, hard.

He set his coffee mug on the counter behind her, then took hers from her grasp, deliberately placed it next to his before he turned, leaning into her.

Oh God. She wanted him. She wanted him to seduce her.

"I've been wondering..." He reached for her, hooked his index finger around hers, lifting her hand. "This wall that needs to come down..." His thumb traced along the lines of her palm, curled over the tender skin of her wrist and she felt herself cant forward, inexorably drawn to him. He lifted her hand higher, gently stroked along her fingers before he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the tip of her index finger. She sighed at the contact, so soft, so sweet, and then he grazed his teeth over the pad and her knees buckled.

Castle wrapped an arm around her back, shifted a knee between hers, holding her steady and she felt limp in his arms, weak with it.

"Maybe we need to be more..." His mouth moved lower, his teeth scraping against the side of her hand, and it was electric, sparks arrowing through her limbs. "Pro-active about it."

She almost whimpered, bit back the sound, and what were they talking about? She couldn't think, concentrate, speak; could only feel the desire spread through her midsection, thick and hot and wet.

He pressed her hand to his sternum where she could feel the pounding of his heart; she lifted her eyes to his, could barely keep her lashes from fluttering while he ran his nails along her forearm, caressed the curve of her elbow, up the line of her bicep but she kept drinking him in, the pure need in the brilliant blue of his eyes, the steely determination. It was exhilarating to feel so wanted; her blood pounding with it. She wanted to kiss him; her fingers curled over his chest, her body rising, rising for him but he nudged his face into the curve of her neck.

"Loosen the mortar," he murmured, nuzzling the edge of her jaw. "Knock loose a few bricks." His lips brushed her skin with every word and she shivered, her legs clamping around his thigh. He kissed her neck, nipped her earlobe and if she didn't feel the rapid rush of his breath from his lungs, she'd worry that he was unaffected, still able to think, his voice so steady while she was putty in his arms.

"Brick..." He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, pushed the words out around it, the k's sharp, shattering her. "By brick by brick."

Kate curled her fingers into the short hair at the back of his neck, so soft to the touch, his skin burning beneath it. "How do you suggest we do that?" She asked, her voice sounding husky even to her own ears.

His mouth traveled a path of tender kisses along her jawline, ever closer to her lips. "Slowly," he whispered, tilting up her chin with his index finger. She opened her eyes, arrested by the darkness in his, burning deep into her.

He nudged his nose to hers in teasing Eskimo kisses; her lips were seeking, needing his but still there was space, too much space with just his breath caressing her mouth. "Like this."

She was faster; she rose into him, sought control, could not take a second more of his teasing; she was aching for him, the blood rushing in her ears, her lips tingling; dying to feel him. Her fingers gripped his shirt, the back of his neck, tugging him over her; her legs tightened around his thigh, her hips undulating impulsively. A low growl raced from his throat, gravely, sexy, and she claimed the sound with her mouth.


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN**: So grateful for all of you; your excitement and love for this story continue to amaze me. Thank you!_

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**Happy Birthday, AC! **(…one day early, but this'll go on a bit past your birthday… look at that, a gift that keeps on giving! ;)) Something sexy – as ordered! **Thank you for your continued support; I appreciate you! xoxo**

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She rose into him, her lips open, seeking; warm and soft and eager on his. Her body so supple as she arched against him and he wrapped his arms around her back, her shoulders, drawing her closer, feeling the strength, the rippling energy beneath her skin. Her tongue slid over his lips, tasting and curling around his, a delicious tease and wow, she was so very, very hot, and gorgeous and fervent. He stroked his tongue inside her mouth, deep, greedy for more of her, all of her.

She tasted like coffee and spice and determination, and he sought her hungrily, couldn't soak in enough of her flavor, her softness, the tiny mewling sounds she made at the back of her throat that he remembered so well; that he'd clung to in long, sleepless nights when he'd been aching for her, when he'd missed her so much that his heart hurt with it. "Kate," he groaned her name into her mouth, "Kate Kate Kate." She sucked on his tongue, tugged his lips between her teeth, her nails sharp at the back of his neck.

Finally, oh god, finally, finally. He was finally kissing Kate Beckett and it was overpowering and perfect and brimming with yearning; the sweetest ache he'd ever felt.

He pressed her tighter to him, chest to chest, heat and friction and her sensuous curves. Pleasure arrowed through his blood, shooting straight to his midsection, his body rising with it. He ran his fingers down her spine, nudged the curve of her back. She helplessly rocked into him, her muscles clamped around his thigh, her slim skirt riding up, up, up. He could practically taste her moan on his tongue, her mouth voracious for more and he dove for her, his tongue sliding deep, stroking at the roof of her mouth, eagerly drawing from her.

He could barely think straight, his mind hazy, just so absolutely overwhelmed by her yet a warning signal blared at the back of his brain, getting louder with the rising ferociousness of their kiss, too fast, _too fast_. Slow, he'd promised her slow and instead he was bulldozing right over her with his desperate desire, this raw, devastating need.

He curved his palm over her cheek, his thumb caressing the contour of her cheekbone while he gentled the kiss, sipped at her mouth, his tongue caressing deliberately. It was a thing of beauty, the way Kate seemed to melt into him, a soft pliable thing in his arms and he kissed her with care, with longing, with his love for her infusing every touch and he was hoping, just hoping she'd taste it, too. Her lips were receptive beneath his; her fingers curled at his neck, caressing slow circles through his hair, her other hand trailing at his hip, his waist, teased over the curve of his butt, and shivers edged into his skin.

She was so soft, vivacious, beautiful, and he wanted her, oh, he wanted her so much; his heart was pounding with it, heat unfurling through his blood, curling along his spine. He just... he didn't want her to have doubts or regrets; he'd need to take his time, take it slow. He'd make it good for her, really very good. Worth it. One brick at a time. There'd be time.

He wanted her in that forever kind of way.

With a few soft kisses, mere brushes of his lips against hers he ended the kiss, slowly drew away. Her eyes came open, darkened with arousal, her mouth open and lips glistening. He wanted nothing more than to dive back in, couldn't get enough of her but he forced himself to stop, breathe, do the right thing. He drew his thumb along her lower lip, watched her eyelids flutter.

"I should," he croaked, had to clear his throat. "I should go." He kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheekbone, her forehead. "Good night, Kate."

She stood frozen, her eyes widened as he stepped back, slid his leg out from under her, and then he slowly turned. It tore at his heart, his whole body screaming but no, it was the right thing; he kept telling himself, _the right thing, Rick._

And then her fingers wrapped around his tie and she whirled him back to her. "Don't you dare!" Kate growled low in her throat and then her mouth was on his, drawing him into another kiss, fast and fiery, laying claim.

"Don't leave me," she demanded, fierce with it, pushing him against the kitchen island and _no Kate, never, never,_ yet the words got lost in the wild spiral of sensation. His breath left his lungs; his arm came around her, his palm on her ass and she moaned, drew him closer, her nails digging into his chest.

And then she gentled the kiss, deepened it and he fell further into her, seeking her, needing all of her. "Don't leave," she murmured into his mouth, caressing his lips with her plea before she slowed down even more, pulled away with a final taste of his lips. His heart stammered with the look in her eyes, so sure and decisive, so purely Kate Beckett. Her fingers wiggled into the knot of his tie, loosening it ever so slightly.

"Stay."

He nodded, wanting nothing else but still, "Are you shhh..."

Her mouth closed over his on the last word as she kissed him again, nipped at his lips with her teeth while his tie came undone under her talented fingers. She slowly drew it from around his neck, popped open the top button of his dress shirt, and pressed her lips to his Adams apple, leaving a smattering of soft kisses that made his knees go weak.

"Yes," she hummed into his skin, shattering him with just one word, and then she pulled away, looked up at him, her fingers skirting beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Let's tear down that wall, Castle."

His heart stumbled in his chest, thumped hard against his ribcage before it sped up, leaving him lightheaded, though more likely this was due to the extraordinary woman in front of him who'd just given herself to him, laid her fragile heart into the care of his palms and why was he waxing sappy poetic instead of touching her, kissing her, making her scream and arch and forget her own name, and was he still just staring?

Her eyebrow quirked up, the trademark Beckett teasing arc when she knew she had his rapt attention. She lifted both hands to the back of her neck, and then the sound of her zipper reverberated loudly in the breathless silence between them.

"We can still go slow," she hummed, turning gradually until she had her back to him. "If you _really_ want."

She swiped the tumble of her hair over one shoulder, threw him a red carpet-worthy over-the-shoulder look that would make any celebrity pale in comparison to her graceful beauty. His breath caught in his throat. Her eyes were beckoning him, seductive and shimmering with quiet need and he stepped forward, drawn to the small vee of skin revealed by the zipper she'd opened only a couple of inches.

He leaned in, placed a lingering kiss to her top vertebra, swirling his tongue over the visible patch of skin, tasting her, a little salty and a lot sweet and she shivered against him, her head falling forward.

Yeah. He really, really wanted slow.

He wanted to savor, sample every patch of skin, sip at the long planes and sinewy curves of her body; wanted to taste her, roll her flavor around on his tongue. He wanted to explore, map her until he knew which spot made her whimper, made her moan, shiver, arch in pleasure while her nails dug into his shoulder blades; discover everything about her because she was the most remarkable, challenging, amazing person he'd ever met.

He slowly opened the zipper of her dress, going almost tooth by tooth as he followed the line of her spine with his lips and his tongue, reveling in the low whimpers that fell from her lips, in the way her hips canted when he swiped at the low of her back. The dress opened all the way down to her tailbone, exposing an edge of dove gray lace that caressed her hips. He snuck a finger underneath the fabric, scraping his nail right and then left of her tailbone. She hissed, a trail of goose bumps erupting on her skin.

He hadn't even noticed that she'd wiggled out of the sleeves but suddenly the dress fell, pooled around her feet and he was staring up at the lithe, pale lines of Kate's naked skin, interrupted only by the shimmering strips of her bra and panties. It was ethereal, just how absolutely gorgeous she was, the slender curves of her hips, the brackets of her waist, the sinewy muscles that defined her body. He was aching with it, want burning through him, setting him on fire but he focused, let it simmer down, holding himself on a low, delicious burn. For her.

He ran his index finger all the way up her spine, then back down, finally able to explore the enticing line that had fascinated him beneath her dress all evening. He felt her skin ripple, her back arch, like a cat following his every touch. He put his mouth to her lower back, nipping, licking, kissing his way back up, making note of the most sensitive spots. Lingered where she'd shiver or tremble; where she'd whimper, mewl sensuously and it was so sexy, the way the sounds tumbled from her lips, the way he could make her feel nothing but this.

With his hands curling low on her hips, he sipped at her nape and she spun in his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him, her mouth hot and eager over his. He trailed a line of kisses along her jaw and down her neck, his tongue swiping at her collarbone; she moaned and he fell to his knees before her, his face pressed between her breasts where her scar lay half-hidden by her bra.

He took a moment to soak her in, the fact that she was alive, so alive and vibrant in his arms and he gripped her hipbones as he pressed a lingering kiss to the mark. Kate curled her fingers through his hair, her touch gentle with understanding. They stayed like that for long moments, her chest rising and falling with every breath, her heartbeat rapid, _alive_, and then he moved, inexorably drawn; his mouth traveling to her right breast, his fingers to the left. He breathed onto the fabric covering her nipple and she groaned, her knees buckling; he wrapped one arm around her lower back, holding her steady.

With his mouth he nudged the fabric away and playfully whirled his tongue over her exposed nipple. Her reaction was immediate- fingers tightened in his hair, head falling back, mouth open on a moan. The rosy flesh puckered, darkened and he could not wait another second; he wrapped his lips around her, sucking the nipple into his mouth, tasting her sweet, sweet flesh. His name stumbled from her lips, rough with yearning; he tightened his hold on her, savoring her.

He played her left breast with his fingertips, tweaking, rolling, teasing the nipple through the lace of her bra while he curled his tongue around her, flicked and nipped; sucked again, hard and then soft, teeth scraping the tender flesh. Her moans grew in volume, her fingers tight in his hair and her hips in motion, undulating fervently and wow, she really, _really_ liked this. He kept at her, suckling ardently, worshipping the soft mounds, over and over; her whole body tensed, quivered in his grasp and he wasn't letting up, going going going until - to his absolute awe - she came.

Hard.


	5. Chapter 5

Holy sh...! Whoa.

She was trembling, her forehead pressed to his shoulder. Still trying to catch her breath, gasping, her mouth pressed to his shirt; her legs shaky, arms weak. His scent wrapped around her, all male and thick with arousal, and it did nothing to calm the electricity still zapping through her blood.

So this just happened.

And in her kitchen, no less.

Slowly, slowly, more conscious thoughts seemed to trickle through. He had maneuvered her against her kitchen island, her back to the cool metal and his chest crowded into her, holding her upright. His fingers were trailing along her spine, up and down and up and down, tender caresses that calmed her racing heart. Her fingers were clenched around his bunched up dress shirt. She slowly opened them, released the wrinkled fabric, pressed her palms to his chest, felt his warmth soaking through to her skin.

She lifted her head, arched her back to better see his face. His beautiful face, the strong, familiar features, the set of his jaw and the tilt of his eyes. He still looked slack-jawed; stunned and... awed.

"Wow, you just..."

She slapped her fingers over his lips, _shut up shut up_, but there was no strength, no insistence in her weak touch. "What'd you expect?" She still sounded breathless. "You've been teasing me all night!"

"I was teasing you?" He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her to him, so tight that her pelvis pressed into his and she could feel him against her, thick and hot and hard. Heat flashed through her, her body weeping with emptiness, yearning for more.

"You're the one that couldn't stop touching me," he murmured, his voice gruff, so very sexy. "With your fingers caressing my hand..." He mirrored his words, teased his fingertips around her knuckles in measured circles. Her skin tingled at his touch.

"Or your mouth against my neck when we danced..." He brushed his lips over her pulse point, brought his teeth against her and shivers rippled down her spine.

"Or your sensual body brushing against mine..." He tugged again, bent over her, his hips circling a ceaseless rhythm against her. "You've been driving me crazy all... night... long."

"Yeah...?" She sighed around a smile, curling both arms around her neck. "You've been driving me crazy for a long time..."

"Really?"

She noticed the insecure note in his voice; didn't want him to have any more doubts in her. All night long she'd been tiptoeing along on this steel wire of need and arousal, willingly set one foot in front of the other yet still worried, afraid of falling too deep, too hard. But when he'd kissed her tonight - or maybe she'd kissed him first? - When they'd kissed it'd felt like everything she'd ever wanted; the only thing, the only one she needed. And then he was ready to leave, still so careful with her, willing to give her time, and something had cracked open within her, the realization breaking free, so clear and bright that she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before.

She was healing herself, was putting in the work already and she knew what she wanted, where she was heading. _Who_ she wanted. She _knew_. How much more ready could she be? Maybe there wasn't even such a thing as completely ready? But there was now and he was here, for her, just like he'd been there for her for so long, waiting for her.

'_I wish I had someone who could be there for me and I could be there for him, and we could just dive in together._' She remembered the woman she was when she'd told him this wish in what felt like so long ago; remembered what she'd been truly yearning for. Who she'd been yearning for, even then.

So she'd jumped. She had dived in. Dived for him.

Because her safety net - _he_ - had been there. Open for her, receiving her softly, wrapping and molding around her; she knew he'd always hold her safe and secure if she needed it.

She curled her fingers into the short hair at the back of his neck, caressing tenderly. "Hm hmm," she nodded, serious. "Really." She nudged her nose to his cheek, let her lips dance along his jawline while she curled up a leg, hooked it high around his thigh. The thin lace of her underwear scraped over the bulging fly of his dress pants as she pressed herself into him.

He shuddered in her arms, ran his fingers over the curve of her butt cheek, down the underside of her thigh, his nails scraping lightly along her skin. Her muscles rippled, clamped rhythmically to the dance of his fingertips and then he gripped her behind the knee, held her tightly to him. She kissed the corner of his mouth, licked his bottom lip. "How about you do it again?"

He growled, hoisted her up against him, fingers clenched into her thighs. She tightened her limbs around him, her body brushing against the length of his. She marveled at the strength she could feel rippling through his muscles, the arousal barely kept at bay, thrumming just beneath the surface of his skin. Pure need slid through her blood, viscous like hot lava, pooling low, deep inside where she was weeping, yearning for him.

"Take me to bed, Castle."

* * *

They barely made it to her bedroom; he kept faltering in his steps, stopped to kiss her; stumbling through the seemingly never-ending length of her living room. She suspected her fingers painstakingly popping open the buttons of his shirt, one by one, might have something to do with his unsteadiness but that didn't mean he wasn't severely overdressed while she was almost bare in his arms, which was immensely unfair. She slid open the next one, then pressed her mouth to his collarbone, swirling her tongue along the newly revealed patch of skin.

"Hmm, you taste good," she hummed against him as his flavor hit her mouth, woodsy and salt and enticingly male. He gasped, bumped into the door frame, hissed as the edge caught his biceps.

She smoothed her hand over his bruised arm, mouthed 'sorry' against his lips.

"You are evil, Kate Beckett," he growled playfully, his eyes sinfully dark with arousal. Her skin flushed, tingled all over.

She nuzzled the edge of his jaw and the soft patch of skin underneath his ear. "You have no idea...," she whispered, and then she suckled his earlobe into her mouth, grazing with her teeth and relishing the groan that stumbled up his throat. "...Yet."

And then it was fast; three more long, determined strides and he sat her down on her bed, ready to crawl over her. She pushed back against his chest, hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants. Sitting at the edge of the bed she looked up at him, tugged him forward so that he came to stand between her spread knees. His crotch was almost level with her face and she could see it in the swirl of his eyes, in his shaky breathing how that totally did it for him.

Kate slid her fingers around his waist, freed the shirttails from his pants, and opened the remaining buttons until the shirt parted completely over his chest and stomach, revealing his broad torso to her for the first time. Scraping her fingers up his chest, she studied his shape by touch, outlining the width of his pecs, the thick curve of his shoulders and the strum of his ribcage. His eyes fell shut, his muscles rippling beneath her touch. She twirled her fingertips through the coarse smattering of hair, circled his nipples with her index fingers, round and round, his low moans vibrating from his chest, spurning her on. She marveled at the heat of his skin, so surprisingly soft against her fingertips as she traveled down the definition of his abs and over to his sides, curving her palms around his waist.

"You're so beautiful," she sighed, leaning forward to kiss around his navel, pressing her nose to his velvety skin. His fingers curled through her hair, caressing her scalp and she looked up into his shining eyes, the absolute adoration etched into his features.

"Isn't that my line?" He rasped, his voice shimmying tightly through her.

"You're the writer," she teased, bringing him forward, her chin brushing low across his stomach. "You can come up with something better..." And then she bit the edge of skin just underneath his navel. He moaned and she soothed her tongue over the spot, then repeated the motion, his hips dancing helplessly in her grasp.

"Magnificent," he stammered, and she smoothed her mouth lower, while her fingers trailed down, cupping his heavy length through the pants. Desire flooded through her at the feel of him, gushed between her legs; he was hot, pulsing and ready and her mouth went completely dry.

"Dazzling..." More of a growl this time, so lost he was in her that the word barely made it past his lips. She squeezed, circled her thumb over him and he whimpered, his hips out of his control, thrusting for her.

She found the button of his pants, then his zipper, painstakingly lowered it. Fingers hooked around his waistband, she tugged down his pants, taking his boxers right with. Her mouth nuzzled low on his abdomen, brushing lower with every inch of skin she slowly revealed. "Must not be doing this right..." she murmured against him, loving the trail of goose bumps that broke across his skin when her breath whispered over it. "If you can still think."

The pants dropped.

He seemed to hold his breath; the moment pulsated with silence as he stood bared before her, revealed in all his glory. Her heart was racing, her body on fire, yearning for him deep, so deep inside. She wanted him, everything about him, wanted to feel and taste and caress and explore every part of him, wanted to relish his scent, his flavor, his soft lines and harder edges, everything.

She blinked up at him, found him staring at her, his eyes so dark, revealing it all to her, like an open book. The depth of his feelings, his desire, his absolute ache for her. Her heart was racing, throat clogged with emotion. Holding his gaze she wrapped her hand around him, watched his every reaction as his eyelids fluttered while his mouth fell open, a moan tumbling from deep inside when she curled her fingers tighter around his length, marveled at his thickness and the heated, velvety skin against her palm.

"Breathe," she whispered, her breath dancing over his skin in rhythm with the caress of her fingers. He gasped for air, almost startled, instinctively thrusting into her palm, "Kate, oh god, Kate..."

And she wrapped her mouth around him.


	6. Chapter 6

The way she touched him. The heat of her mouth, the play of her tongue, slick, curling, so insistent yet achingly soft. The tenderness of her fingertips, both curious and caring, sliding up and down and around.

He looked down at her, mouth dry at this vision claimed straight from his deepest, darkest fantasies but no, he corrected his thought immediately. This was nowhere near his fantasies because nothing, no scene he could've written, no dream he'd fallen into could ever live up to the real thing, to the staggering reality of Kate Beckett making love to him with her lips, her mouth, her hands.

The way she adored him with every stroke and caress and glide of her tongue; nothing perfunctory in her touch. She explored him, soaking in every detail, as thorough and focused as she was in every other aspect of her life - investigating him. The thought coursed through his mind that maybe he'd never been touched with such minute attention before, with so much care. Certainly not in any recent memory when so often he'd ended up feeling like a conquest, laid claim upon; when what had been given to him had not necessarily been _about_ him. He shivered, his knees feeling shaky.

He wasn't going to survive the night. He was not going to...

"Kate," he growled, begged, hardly knew what he was begging for, his fingers twined through the strands of her hair. His hips twitched, his butt muscles clenching in a meager attempt to control the surge of his body, the throbbing need that coiled, hot and heavy in his midsection. She hummed, actually hummed around him and the vibrations of her voice shimmied tightly through him, his skin sensitized to the smallest strokes, intensifying the quick, sharp brushes of the tip of her tongue, the infinitesimally small swipes of her index finger along his veins.

Her fingers curled over his hip, her thumb drawing languid circles into the patch of skin by his hipbone while her nails scraped slowly down the curve of his ass, the tender ministrations in stark contrast to the hot cavern of her mouth around him, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper. His nerve endings were firing; sensations spread like starbursts wherever she touched him, everywhere at once and oh god, so good, so hot and intense and daring. So amazing, she was amazing and it was too much, he wasn't going to last much longer but he wanted more, wanted everything; he wanted her.

He reached for Kate, fingers in her hair, underneath her armpit. Drew her up, away, leaning over her in one fluid movement as he bent her back onto the bed, couldn't help but groan at the loss of her mouth on him, the chill that brushed where the heat of her tongue had been. Her eyes flew open, her pupils wide as he stared at her, at once fascinated with how the dark orbs had consumed the brown in her eyes, leaving only a rim of almost translucent jade.

Her lips were opened, glistening; her breaths stammered from her lungs, rapidly raising and sinking her chest. One of his palms was pressed against her ribcage and her skin was heated, vibrant; it felt like she was brimming just beneath her skin, with passion, with coiled energy barely held in check, her body straining, muscles clenched tautly.

His fingers curled around her jaw. "I want to be inside you."

She mewled and he swooped in, claimed her mouth, swirling his tongue around the wanton sound. He could taste himself on her lips, her tongue, his flavor married with hers, like they belonged together. He moaned into her mouth, drawing from her. Kate clamped a palm around his nape, eagerly dragging him with her while she scooted further onto the bed, mouths still fused together, her tongue fervent around his. He stumbled, lost his balance, fell on top of her, could just barely catch his weight on his elbows before he'd have crushed her beneath his weight. Her hand was pressed to his sternum; his heart was racing.

"You okay?" She worried, curling her fingers over his chest, her eyes wide, stark against the flush of her cheeks.

Only now did he realize how his ankles were trapped in his pants that had pooled around his feet when she'd dropped them earlier, the coil of fabric imprisoning his calves when he'd tried to move. He grinned self-deprecatingly, shook and toed them off rather ungracefully but he couldn't care less when every small movement he made brushed his pelvis against hers, made her breath catch and her eyes flutter.

At last he sank down into the cradle of her thighs and one of her legs came to drape around his hip. He cradled her face, his fingers brushing the sharp, gorgeous ridge of her cheekbone and the defined curve of her jaw. "Never better," he promised. She smiled widely, the stretch of her lips so filled with joy that he had to kiss her again, needed to taste that delight from her mouth.

She rose, eagerly surged toward him, legs and hips and torso, a whole body undulation. Like a tigress, so much strength housed in the lithe lines of her body, coiled and poised and just waiting to break free. He could barely hold on to her; his fingers gripped around her waist while her tongue swirled deep, explored enthusiastically and he gave himself to her, relished the small whimpers from the back of her throat.

Her leg flexed and tightened against his hip, her muscles so strong that he couldn't help his pelvis from rolling, from pressing into the hot, lace-covered heat between her legs, the contact pulling simultaneous groans from them both, separating their mouths. He twitched with need, swallowed hard and tried to focus, to simmer down the urgency boiling within. His skin was fevered, his body screaming, now now _now_, but he breathed through it, clamoring for whatever smidgeon of control he had left.

He wanted her, oh god, he wanted her so much, everything about her; he ached with it. He could hardly remember a time when he hadn't wanted her, not just with his body but with his heart, with the entirety of who he was. He was aching to join himself with her, become one in every way imaginable. Feel drawn inside of her, held, absorbed by her; give himself to her and fall deep, so deep he'd never find his way back out. Because he'd never want to. And he wanted her to _feel_ that, to feel how awed he was by her, how humbled and honored that she'd chosen him; he needed her to feel loved, _worshipped_.

He'd make it good for her, like he'd promised. Slow, and brick by brick.

Kate was squirming beneath him, eyes closed and mouth rooting for his so he brushed his lips over hers, then played his tongue along the curve of her bottom lip before he nipped at it. She fell back against the pillow, mouth open for him and he suckled on her, relishing the hungry mewling sounds she made. Her fingers curled behind his ears, tugging him toward her. He pressed his lips to her jaw instead, then smoothed soft kisses down the length of her neck, swirling his tongue over her pulse point that throbbed erratically.

"Rick," she whimpered, tilted her neck and he repeated the move, bringing his teeth against her before he soothed the skin with the swipe of his tongue.

"You're so soft," he hummed, enamored with the satin of her skin against his tongue, his lips and fingertips. Couldn't get enough of her subtle flavor, like cherries and cinnamon sugar. His mouth traveled to her clavicle, his teeth grazing the thin skin that encased the ridge of bone, causing her to gasp. She writhed underneath him, her hips twitching, fingers clenched tightly into the flesh of his waist.

Slipping his fingertips beneath the fabric, he tugged her bra straps off her shoulders and down her arms, his fingertips running along the lines of her bicep, to the inside of her elbow and the so-soft skin of her forearm before he'd slip the elastic over her wrists. He continued his journey down her sides, trailed his fingers over her abs and up along the curve of her ribcage, making note of every squirm, sigh, shiver. How her breath would hitch when he circled her hipbone, how she'd fidget as his pinkie finger dipped beneath the lacy edge of her underwear, and hiss sharply when he scratched his nail against the side of her rib just so; he mapped it all, filing away the sinuous knowledge.

Kate arched her back, lifting her cleavage enticingly close to his face while she quickly reached behind herself and undid the clasp of her bra. Finally, finally he got to reveal her; he lifted the lace off her chest, unveiling her like a precious gift. He stared, couldn't help it; his mouth parched, his heart stammering. At the subtle curves of her body and her pale skin, shimmering like porcelain. At the sloped mounds of her breasts, the rosy hue of her nipples, swollen with arousal. At the round, puckered scar sitting low in her cleavage, and the thin sharp line than ran below her left breast. He reached out almost tentatively, ran a finger along the length of it.

Her body jolted like a live wire, one of her hands traveling to the hair at his nape, gripping tightly and pulling.

"Don't make me beg!" She growled, demand and plea both as her heel dug into his ass, pressing him closer. Under any other circumstances it might've made him grin, made him smug, hearing the impatience brimming in her voice, the wanton hunger but not now, not with her. Not when she was giving herself so freely, so completely and uninhibited. He almost lost it, right then and there, overcome with the fire burning in her eyes, the intensity of her need for him. For _him_. It was overwhelming, more than he ever could have imagined.

He reached for her wrists, lifted both her arms, resting them on the pillow above her head. She blinked up at him, her chest lifting rapidly. He brushed his lips to hers, nudged her nose with his, sought her eyes. "Trust me," he pleaded, but what was meant as a request came out sounding like a question, suddenly encompassing so much more than just this moment. _Please, Kate, let me do this for you, let me be this for you, everything for you._

She curved one palm around his jaw, her thumb gingerly pressed to his cheekbone while she stared into his eyes for a long moment, seemingly looking right inside him. He felt breathless with it, his heart pounding; aching, waiting. And then she let herself sink back into the mattress, her whole body seeming to relax beneath him. Limbs loosened, muscles limber, she stretched her arms back over her head, her eyes awash with it. "I trust you."


	7. Chapter 7

_**AN**__: I sincerely apologize for the long delay on this update. I had to take a small break but I'm very sorry that this story and all you readers fell victim to this. I am continuously amazed by the wonderful responses to this piece; there are no words to express what this means to me. Please know how much I appreciate your kind words, your enthusiasm, your patience and your appreciation._

* * *

She was unraveling... slowly, inevitably, eternally.

Her body felt weightless, as if she was hovering just above the soft sheets of the bed, her limbs unanchored, her skin humming. Her arms drawn up, resting right and left of her head, and her fingers clenched, nails digging sharply into the skin of her palm, then releasing as her body arced toward his touch in supplication, as she gave herself over to his tender ministrations.

Her eyes drifted close, mouth open on a muted gasp, the realization sharp and clear that she'd never trusted anybody the way she trusted him, with the entirety of her self, so wholly and unquestioning. He'd wormed his way into her life, into her heart until she couldn't imagine being without him, didn't want to. Nobody had ever understood her like Castle did, nobody had ever seemed to care enough to keep digging, to keep coming back, to keep hacking away at that wall no matter the obstacles, unafraid of the dangers or the prickliness of her heart. She felt the inevitability of this moment down to the bone, her heart thumping wildly, expectant and excited for all the moments still to come.

His mouth traveled lower, following the path of his fingertips. His lips were so soft against her skin, warm and supplicant and while she was almost desperate for release, wet and wanton, she never wanted this to end. This gentle exploration of every part of her, his lips his tongue his fingers, just him, Castle, oh god finally, _Castle_.

She mewled as he trailed a line of kisses down her sternum, sipping at the skin along the underside of her breast before he flicked his tongue across her hardened nipple, again, again, again. Pleasure arrowed deep into her belly like lightning bolts, heat spread in concentric circles, every nerve alight. She moaned, a guttural sound almost foreign to her own ears. With a groan he sucked her breast into his mouth, his palms curved around her ribcage, cradling her as she arched within his hold.

His fingers found her other nipple, playing, plucking, circling while he feasted on her skin and the sensations sharpened, strong, deep, almost too much. She gasped, wordlessly pushed on his head, her breasts still too sensitized from their first round in the kitchen. He seemed to understand as his mouth immediately wandered lower.

'_Thank god he follows directions, so unlike when we first met_,' she thought randomly before her mind went pleasantly blank as his lips forged a path down the curve of her ribcage and into the valley of her tummy. The stubble on his chin a sharp, electrifying contrast to the tenderness of his mouth on her skin. He rimmed her navel with his tongue, blew against the wet path and the chill sparked against the heat of her skin, making her shiver. Her legs clenched, her toes clamping helplessly the closer she felt his mouth to the apex of her thighs, her body weeping for him.

His fingers clamped around her hipbones, he nuzzled his mouth and nose between her legs, breathing onto the lace still covering her, his eyes closed and silent for a long moment as if he was in prayer. An inexplicable surge of tears welled through her, rimmed her eyes. She curled a hand into his hair, smoothed her fingers along his scalp, his forehead, his temple until he lifted his head, looking at her. His eyes were endlessly dark, deep pools that shone with stunned awe, almost in disbelief.

Her breaths came shallow and rapid, her heart overflowing seeing this amazing man seeking benediction at the altar of her body, of _her_. She caressed his cheek with her thumb, painted her love for him onto his cheekbone and across his soft bottom lip. He caught her with his lips, pressed a velvety kiss to the whorls of her thumb and a well of pure joy cascaded through every part of her, widening her lips into a beaming smile.

And then he grinned at her, an almost voracious glint stealing into his eyes. He dropped his head, pressed his face into her lower abdomen with an exaggerated growl. It tickled and she laughed, her head falling back against the pillow until she felt his fingers peel the last piece of clothing off her body and her laughter dissolved into a breathless moan.

Castle tugged the lace down her legs, slow so slow, his fingertips traversing down the length of her limbs until she was freed. Her legs fell open in wordless invitation and his fingers climbed up the inside, circling her ankle bones, scraping his nails against her calves, his fingertips adoring her thighs, his mouth following suit. She widened her legs the higher he crawled, her skin humming, the blood pounding in her ears.

He pressed his lips to her inner thigh, caresses like warm silk cascading over her skin and her hips were writhing beneath him with anticipation. His mouth danced in haphazard patterns, moved at an achingly deliberate pace while her whole body was brimming with frenzied need, her muscles clenching, releasing, clenching again. He curled his tongue into the crease of her thigh, and '_touch me_,' she sobbed, didn't even know if she'd begged out loud. She wanted him so much, needed his mouth on her, needed him inside of her, needed _him_; she was so on edge while he took his sweet time, patiently exploring every patch of her skin and she clawed her fingers into his hair, tugged, pulled because, oh god, if he wasn't, if he didn't...

And then he slicked his tongue between her legs, drew a long line, the tip flicking sharply over her swollen nerves and she cried out, came right off the bed, her hips surging high. He caught her, held her, circled his tongue over the bundle of nerves, over and over and around, voracious yet still tender somehow.

"You taste amazing," he growled and the vibrations of his voice surged deep into her abdomen, like a current of electrifying sensation. She sobbed, pushed herself further into his mouth, seeking more, more. She couldn't keep still, her body winding higher, tighter, an ever-tightening coil and, oh god, this was going to be embarrassingly fast, _again_.

Her fingers still clenched around strands of his hair, Castle reached for her other hand, twining his fingers through hers, palms kissing and fingers knitted tightly together. His mouth was hot, deliciously wet as he suckled, teased, inscribed seducing words to her skin, love letters suffusing her body. She held on, clung to him, answered with mewling whimpers and keening moans, barely recognizing her voice as her own.

There was a moment of suspension, that plateau of ecstatic almost-agony, breath held and body taut with tension and then her vision whitened and she was falling, hard, fast. Her muscles contracting, releasing, fluttering as she rode the foaming, cresting waves of sensation that rushed through her, threw her higher, spun her through the air, a weightless, breathless tumble.

She came down slowly, body still shuddering with aftershocks, barely able to catch her breath or fully open her eyes. Gradually, she noticed the pounding of her heart, the sheen of sweat drying on her skin, the stubble of his cheek imprinting to the tender skin of her inner thigh. The rush of his rapid breaths tickled her still-quivering flesh, making her twitch and grin, wide and satisfied, a well of effervescent joy gurgling within her.

She clawed at his hair, needing him closer but her arms were limp, her strength not yet returned to her muscles. He seemed to understand, crawled up her body. Nestling against her side, his weight half on and half off her, Castle pressed his face into the curve of her neck.

"Just gimme... minute," she gasped, still spent, her heart thudding heavily all the way into her throat. She curled her fingers through his hair, running circles over his scalp; felt the brush of his eyelashes as he closed his eyes, his breath caressing her skin.

Her breathing gradually calmed, and Castle started kissing the side of her neck, along the line of her jaw, rising up to look down at her. He ran his index finger across her lips, painting the width of her smile. "You look like the cat that ate the cream."

She sought him for a kiss, sipping at his mouth, her heart pounding at the heady taste of herself on his lips. "Looks like you're the one who got all the cream..."

He groaned, rolled his eyes. "That was a terrible pun, Kate Beckett. Awful," he shuddered in mock despair, but his grin was wide as he looked at her, proud and pleased and a little smug.

"Don't despair..." She rolled her hip, nudging his hard length that lay pressed against her side, "I promise it'll get better."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Castle rose over her, slid one thigh between her legs.

Kate curled a leg over his hip, pressed her body into his, reveling in the rasp of his leg hair, the strength of his muscled thigh cradled between hers. His eyes darkened, lips slack, his biceps jumping with the strain of holding himself above her on outstretched arms.

She ran a finger over the bulge of bunched up muscles, arched one eyebrow. "Thought you wanted to be inside for this, hmm?"

"Was talking about my poor, manly self," he quipped. "You girls have a distinct advantage in that area. _Almost_ no recovery time." Eyeing her up and down, he flexed his thigh muscles and her eyes fluttered in response to the solid pressure, the fire in her belly kindling all over again. He grinned wolfishly. "Unless I've exhausted you too much?"

"Are you kidding?" Tightening her limbs around him, silently thanking her extensive combat training, she executed a smooth flip that landed him on his back, allowing her to straddle him. His eyes went wide with surprise as she nestled onto him, his length trapped between his stomach and the apex of her thighs. "I could do this all night long..."

He groaned darkly, his head falling back against the pillow, eyes closed and jaw clenched as she slid herself along his length, enjoying the smooth, slick glide, the thick feel of him between her folds. Arousal gushed deep and hot, her body weeping for his.

"Kate, Kate, Kate," he moaned her name, his head thrashing against the pillow, fingers clenched so hard into the bedspread that his knuckles turned white.

She rose up and gently wrapped her fingers around him, guiding him, his tip nudging against her entrance. His eyes flew open and he watched her intently, a whole book written in the lines of his face and the glint in his eyes, a love story only for her. Her heart thundered with the thought that this was Castle beneath her, almost inside of her, _Rick Castle_ to whom she was joining herself in this covenant as ancient and eternal as life itself.

This was it.

Watching him, and with her heart slamming against her ribs, she took him inside, lowered herself down gently, slowly, endlessly.

Kate savored the long slide, the grip of her muscles around him, the thickness stretching and filling her; savored the jerk of his hips beneath her, the solid strength rippling through his muscles, the urgency barely held at bay and the groan ripped from his throat at the first feel of himself inside her.

She settled down on his hips as he slid home, her muscles gripping his length. She swallowed hard, set aflame by the pulse and nudge of him deep within her body, the fire of his eyes on her, the frenzied intensity that coiled even though they were completely still; deep, so deep, everywhere at once. It rushed in her ears, made her blood pound and her muscles clench and her heart yearn, the sheer inevitability of this moment, of _everything_ between them.

"Kate..." He murmured, his fingers gripped around her thighs, anchoring her to him. "You know I love you, right?"

She froze.


	8. Chapter 8

"_You know I love you, right?_"

She froze atop him, thighs clamped tightly around his hips, her eyes widening.

His immediate instinct was that he wanted to pull the words back in. Un-say them. His stomach lurched nervously, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. It wasn't that he didn't feel them; he did. More than anything. He'd been loving her for such a long time; so long that he couldn't even tell when it had started, when his fascination, his hopeless infatuation with Kate had changed into this deep and immense, this endless love.

But he'd been hoping for the right moment, a romantic, quiet setting instead of another spur-of-the-moment confession ripped from his heart in the throes of overpowering emotions. He was terrified he'd scare her off, overwhelm her before they ever really got started. And yet here they were, making love for the first time, desire and endorphins skyrocketing through him. He was utterly rapt by the feel of being joined with her, being inside of her, finally being with her, with Kate, the challenging girl who had turned out to be the woman of his dreams and he couldn't _not_ tell her. This moment, this feeling, their story; it was everything.

She stared at him with wide eyes, her pupils large; deep black pools he could drown in. Her lips slackened, she seemed to be holding her breath, and he could see her pulse throbbing in the visible vein of her neck. Yet she wasn't tearing away, he realized with a rush of relief.

She didn't withdraw, didn't seem nearly as scared by the sentiment as he might've feared. Shock, surprise shining in her eyes, but... not fear. It confirmed what he'd suspected for quite some time - that she'd been aware of his feelings for her. Whether she'd heard his desperate confession back when she'd been shot, or deduced it from the way he treated her, how he looked at her or was with her, he didn't know.

He didn't care either, he realized with a flash of clarity; it didn't matter to him any longer. They were here now. She was finally in his arms, and she'd been more than clear, she had been certain that this is what she wanted, that he was who she wanted. She'd given all of herself to him tonight, let him touch her, discover her, love her and he was awed by the absolute beauty, the complete abandon he'd been allowed to witness.

So no, he didn't want to take it back. In fact, he was going to say it again. He needed to reinforce it, to make sure that she knew with absolute certainty that he loved her, what this meant to him; never would have any doubt how much he loved her. He held her eyes with his, her beautiful, expressive eyes that stared at him with a myriad of emotions swirling in their depths, like fire opals sparkling in candlelight. His heart beat wildly in his chest, absolute joy battling with the tightened coil of nerves in his stomach.

Castle gripped her legs, his thumbs dipping into the crease of her thighs where he felt her muscles clench beneath his fingers. Anchoring her to him, he lifted his hips, thrust into her, once, slow; deep. "You know I love you." Not a question this time.

Her eyelids fluttered as he slid deeper, her inner muscles gripping him and _holy shit_ she was tight around him, felt so incredibly good. He choked on a breath, his limbs quivering from the strain as he fought every instinct he had to move, to thrust again. Instead he stilled, his thumb seeking her bundle of nerves. He circled it once, flicked the swollen nub and she clamped around him, her thighs, butt cheeks, stomach tensed, a strangled breath jolting from her throat.

"You know it, Kate." He rolled his hips into her once more, punctuating his words with another deep thrust, felt her muscles ripple and flutter around him. Her back bowed sharply, head falling back with a moan. He stilled again, waited for her, holding her to him as her eyes fluttered open, her body settled back down onto his hips until she was looking at him again.

Her cheeks flushed with arousal, she flicked her tongue across her bottom lip, her head bobbing in a small, almost shy nod. His heart leapt at the silent confession, heat arrowed into his midsection and his hips twitched, drawing a hissed "yessss" from her lips.

Kate sought his hands with hers, twined her fingers tightly through his, pressing their knotted hands into the mattress. She clung to him as she leaned over his torso, never not looking at him with every move she made, her eyes so dark and knowing. Her nipples grazed his chest as she lifted her hips, then slowly sank back down, her heat engulfing him inch by torturous inch, warm and tight and extraordinary until his whole body felt on fire, his vision almost blackening out.

She repeated the move, raised her hips then sank almost agonizingly slowly, her muscles fluttering, squeezing around him, receiving him.

"You know." He choked out the words, forced his eyes to stay open through the firestorm of pleasure that raged through him.

She kissed him, then, her mouth brushing his tenderly. Her tongue curled along his lips, dipped inside, every touch soft, so loving that he could barely breathe, felt suspended in this breathless, perfect moment.

"I know," she admitted quietly, her words whispering across his mouth like a caress. She pressed another kiss to his lips, and another, before her eyes slid open, found his, wide and shining with a mix of emotions he could barely untangle. Couldn't focus on either with his heart thudding wildly, effervescent joy welling through him, stretching his mouth into a wide smile.

"Good," he grinned. He untangled one of his hands to run his fingers along the slope of her spine, curve his palm around her shoulder and then he flipped them, rolling her underneath him.

Her knees bracketed his hips immediately as he nestled between her thighs, sank just a little deeper into her. She gasped, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip and Castle caressed his fingers down the side of her face, swept a few errant strands of her hair off her forehead, cradled her cheek with his palm.

She tilted her head into his touch, smiling at him, her eyes sparkling. "Smooth move, Mr. Castle." Her fingers curled against his chest, drawing haphazard patterns onto his skin.

"Only the best for you, _Detective_ Beckett," he replied, sounding husky to his own ears. He ran his nails over the smooth curve of her butt cheek, up the back of her thigh, watching the flutter of her eyelids, the sharp intake of her breath, feeling the quiver of her hips. His own body was taut, feverish, his nerve endings quivering.

"Does that turn you on?" She hummed, her voice thick with desire, an eyebrow arched teasingly.

"_You_ turn me on," he growled, confessing a truth he was sure she'd always known. "You always have." He cradled her jaw with his palm, ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" Kate wrapped her lips around his finger, sucked it into her mouth, her teeth grazing his flesh and he nodded, his hips jerking of their own volition. She moaned, her pelvis tilting into his, eager to receive him while her fingers clamped over his chest, her nails leaving crescent marks in his skin. She wrapped her other hand around his neck, tugging him lower, her gaze burning into his. "Show me."

He repeated the move, slow and purposefully this time. He pulled out, groaned. "You're the most desirable," then slid back into her heat, so soft and receptive, pulsing around him. "Most remarkable," he punctuated his words with another stroke, "woman I've ever met."

Kate whimpered, her eyes rolling back as her head dropped down onto the pillow, neck arched, exposing the smooth, pale column of her neck. She gasped, seemed to want to say something but he pressed his lips to her jaw, kissed and licked down the side of her neck and all coherent thought seemed to leave her. _Good_. He didn't want her to think, he wanted her to forget everything, he wanted her incoherent and just feel.

With his body taut, his muscles flexed, he controlled his every move, kept his thrusts shallow, nudging against the spot inside where he knew her nerves would be most sensitive, over and over and over.

Her knees tightened against his hips like a vise. She was squirming beneath him with every stroke, her hips jerking, back arching, eyes clamped shut and her mouth open on a string of gasps and moans and whimpers, and it was by far the sexiest thing he'd ever, ever seen.

This woman he loved so very much writhing in the throes of passion, delirious and open and vulnerable, and she'd chosen him. He was the man who got to kiss her, touch her, see and feel her like this, to give her this most intimate rapture, _he_, Rick Castle, and there was nothing more important than making her feel and lose control, sending her spiraling all over again, giving her everything he could and then some.

Her pleasure became his sole focus, transcending his own immediate need. He felt set on fire, teetered on the razor-sharp edge of release, clinging to every ounce of control he had. His body clamoring desperately for more and yet he never wanted this to end, this deliriously slow, overwhelming, extraordinary journey, this perfect almost-agony.

Kate clamped her fingers around his neck, his jaw held captive between her palms as she tugged him closer until their foreheads kissed, her fast breaths caressing his mouth.

"Stop holding back," she growled, pleaded. "I want you to..." She rolled her hips, squeezed her inner muscles. Heat arrowed through him, sharp like a lightning bolt and his body jerked, surging into her, deeper, harder.

"Yesssss," she mewled, "I just..." She kissed him, her tongue delving deep, curling around his, fiery and eager before she ended the kiss, her thumbs caressing his cheekbones. She folded her legs over his back, beckoning him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

"I just want you."

He felt like sobbing as he slipped his arms beneath her back, his hands curved around her shoulders, cradling her to him. He'd been with his fair share of women and yet it seemed that nothing, no encounter or moment had ever felt as intimate as this, holding his Kate in his arms, connected to her, joined with her as one.

He kissed her as he raised his hips, then sank deeper into her, his tongue mirroring the thrusts of his body. He watched her cues and responses, speeding up as she eagerly pressed her pelvis to his, rolled her hips, seeking more. She moaned, quivered in his arms, her body taut, her skin hot to the touch.

He thrust faster, harder, their kisses turning sloppy, more shared breaths and brushing lips. She keened into his mouth, her fingers digging into his neck and shoulders as she clung to him.

He could feel the climb of her body, the strain running through her, like electricity that hummed just beneath her skin. She was close; he felt it in the way her limbs clamped around him, her heels dug into his ass, in her taut abs and the way her inner muscles tightened around him, squeezing, hot and wet, so breathtakingly amazing.

White-hot shards of pleasure speared through every part of him, his insides coiled and tight, ready to release at any moment as her heat engulfed him, racing through his blood.

Close, so very close, not sure how much more he could take, he reveled in the delirious agony of keeping himself just on the edge, going going going for her, surging within her, filling her, received by her again and again as her moans got louder; keening, desperate music to his ears.

And then she arched high, seemed to hold her breath, every muscle tightened around him. He rolled his pelvis into her, thrusting once, twice, quick and sharp until she cried out, shattered in his arms. Head thrown back, her body bowing, jolting over and over, quivering with release and he'd never seen, never felt anything so beautiful in his life.

Bright-white light flared behind his eyes, his blood rushing in his ears as her inner muscles fluttered and squeezed him. The tight coil within him snapped suddenly, unraveled hard and fast, shooting pleasure from his middle through his muscles, his limbs, the blood roaring in his ears. A firestorm of heat engulfing him, all-consuming, the groans from his mouth sounding foreign as he broke apart, quaking within her, around her, shivering almost deliriously.

He collapsed on top of her, had just enough wherewithal left to roll them onto their sides before his brain blanked, his body still quivering with little aftershocks. He could barely move, couldn't think or speak, everything heavy with bone-deep satisfaction. He tugged her closer, his chin on top of her head and her face pressed into the curve of his neck, her rapid breaths caressing his Adam's apple.

The sense of peace was all-encompassing, unstoppably lulling him into oblivion. Kate curled tighter into his embrace, her body plastered to his, sweat-slicked and limp and so very very soft and warm.

And with a sated, content sigh that rose from deep within, with the serenity of Kate in his arms, his eyes fell closed.


End file.
